chapter 1

I could just call you fat. But where would the fun be in that?

When my words seem to tease you so, when you can see that in my eyes, in the way that I touch your softening body that this is so much more than fat to me... When I don't want you to stop. I could just call you fat. But are you fat enough?

I see the way that you eat a little more for me, when you feel my body press to yours. When in your lap I rock a little more; squeezing my thighs so that the little layer of soft fat that now presses from your lower belly is compressed; crowded between the firmness of my muscles. You are pouring out from your waist now, a soft layer from your hips. This belly is thicker... softer. Ok... I'll say it, fatter.

Every time that you tell me you’re full it just makes me want to feed you more. I don’t even need the words…You're moaning from fullness. From pleasure. That adorable little belch that makes me groan aloud, as you try to sit forward. But you’re too round. Too stuffed… You aren’t used to this big belly. And, it’s clear to see that this is big. Stuffed. More.

You take to sitting back, letting your belly push forwards, your hands in the small of my back, urging me to lift a little. To press my body tighter still to yours. If I stand a little... I let your belly drop and jiggle. It Bounces now. Even when you are full... Does that make you fat?

I think it makes you feel fat. Another moan. You're so stuffed as it is, and now this big belly sits heavily on your thighs, as I raise myself up, kneeling carefull, as I slide myself against you. Skin to skin. Body to body. I feel your hands slide across my back, down to my ass... as I press myself closer still to your belly, crowding you, making you moan, to my thighs.,.your fingers making me part my lips in anticipation, with their a gentle walk across my soft skin. Delicately tracing their way up my inner thigh. Stopping to tease me, slapping your belly. Pressing me tighter... Even if the pressure does make you moan.

My pelvis sinks into your fat now, as my back arches, as my body finds its way closer to your belly. I need this gut. This taut, aching, ball... One hand for your belly, and one for me. Feel how fat you are, and you have still indulged, Beyond your limits. Feel what you've done to me...Are you going to indulge me too? Over and over. Like the many thousands of calories that have built this belly.

Feel my excitment. Fuel my excitement. Fatten my excitement.

... But are you fat? Are you greedy? Are you fed enough to have my pleasure?

I ask you this as I kiss you. Taking your chin in my hands, tilting your head so that you look up at me... reminding you of the times that you have laid back, clutching an aching belly... at my mercy. The tilt of head I give you as I beg for a little more...But you tell me I am full.

I sit down onto you, taking you in the warmth of my excitment that you were just caressing. Your belly presses against me as I do so. And I find myself loosing my pleading to a little gasp. That I should have your pleasure and your plumpness, against me like this... I don't need to beg. There are no words. My body does it for me.

My clutching need of you. The passionate bite of my kisses... the first trembling waves of my need for you, as my back arches. Closer still to this belly. Closer still to ectasy for this expanding belly... but its not big enough yet.

I really am begging as I lift myelf from you. As I press myself, naked into your lap. My body trembling for you. My nipples pert against your skin, resting on the outwards slope of your fullness. It sticks way out from your chest now. You can try to push your hips up, to guide me to pleasure... but I've caught you tightly between my thighs... the very tip of my warmth sliding to you as I pant.

I linger forhead to forhead, my lips lingering above yous, as I meet your eye... a blush to my cheeks. A pant to my breath.

Hands to belly. Body to body... almost entirely. Your big belly pressing into my slim body. Demanding room. My plump puzzle piece... Please me. I need a little more.

I know I have your attention. That in want of my pleasure, you will push. Push past this stuffed limit of fullness... As you have every time I've begged to feed you.

I could just call you fat... We both know that you are now. Or that you're dangerously close... But, thats not the sort of feeder that I am. Your belly excites me. It teases me. Motivates me. Pleases me... And Really, its my fat... Because you have gained it for me. My insatiable glutton. I am your feeder, And You eat only for me...

Stuffing and feeding you is intense. Intimate. Passionate... Your belly pleases me. So, as I beg. As I need pleased... Will you eat for me? More than you need too.

Let me Grow you, My glutton. In appitite. In Inches. In waistsize. And in... Greed. How much will it take to stuff you full to my satisfaction... How big will this belly be before its beig enough... Whats another ten... fifty... one hundred poiunds?

Tell me... Are you hungry?... Are you ready to be Fat?...

I'm ready to play with your belly now... Lets see how 'fat' you really are. Let me watch your waistline expanding... popping buttons. And Beyond.

My fat feedee. My Muse. The Subject of all my Stuffing dreams... I can't get enough of your belly. You have all of my attention. Eat up.

I'm ready for you to be fat. Well, fatter than you are now...